


I Killed Him

by xthe_dreamerx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Role Reversal, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7131995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xthe_dreamerx/pseuds/xthe_dreamerx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stydia Role Reversal Ep. 5x05<br/>Donovan finds Lydia at the school instead of Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Killed Him

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, if you have any requests, comment below! Enjoy!

She doesn’t know how she ended up here. 

It’s not like it’s normal for Lydia Martin to find herself wandering around Beacon Hills High School five hours after she’d been discharged from the hospital just five hours earlier. Especially when it’s the middle of the night. 

The moment her mother dropped her off at home after they’d left the hospital, she’d left straight for work, since she’d missed the whole week being in the hospital with Lydia. Lydia was left alone in the house, nothing to do. She’d considered calling one of her friends, but then though against it. They probably had better things to do, anyway. 

Originally, Lydia had gotten into her car to go get some more ibuprofen from the local drug store. So, when she’d turned up at the school, she was pretty confused. Until she understood why. 

Another banshee feeling was on the rise. 

And that’s what’s led her here. Wandering around the dark, empty hallways of the high school in search of a dead body or any blood that might lead to one. But she’s been here for an hour already, checking unlocked room after unlocked room, coming up with nothing. 

A sigh leaves the girl’s pale pink lips. She stalks out of the chemistry room, the one that used to be Mr. Harris’s, looking down both ways of the empty science wing. Moonlight shines through the clear windows lining the walls of the hallway, being the only source of light for the dark school. It’s silent, the only thing being heard is her beating heart and the sound of her breathing. 

Heaving out another sigh, Lydia walks down the way she came, headed back toward the parking lot to get into her car and go home. There’s no way the drug store’s going to be open this late anymore. 

The cool air of the night washes over the strawberry blonde, sending a chill down her spine. Moonlight covers her as the almost full moon shines down on her as she walks toward her car, pulling her keys out of her jeans pocket. Their jingling sounds the silent night, also silencing the lingering voices in her head. 

She’s never realized how crazy that sounds until now. 

A sound behind her makes her stop in her tracks, right next to the driver’s side of her car. Slowly, she moves her keys around in her hand so one of the keys is sticking out of her closed fist. It’s a self-defense mechanism she’d learned from Allison sophomore year. 

What? Not everyone can carry around a set of Chinese ring daggers with them. 

Lydia tries to keep her breathing steady as she hears footsteps approach her from behind. Don’t panic. 

And right as she hears the footsteps right behind her, she turns around, swinging her fist as she turns, effectively scratching the predator across the face with her key.   
She stumbles back, trying to catch a glimpse at the person coming at her. And when she does, her eyes widen a considerable amount.   
Donovan. 

A trail of blood lines from the corners of his lips nearly to his ears, inhuman teeth replacing his human ones. His clothes are dirty, his forehead coated with sweat and dirt. She leans back against her car, her hand covering her mouth. 

He’d been turned into a wendigo. 

Lydia tries to get away, turning around to get into her car, when Donovan’s hand latches onto her shoulder, another hand coming around to cover her mouth, muffling the scream that escapes her lips. 

It feels like a thousand gigantic needles are stabbing into the skin of her shoulder, the pain causing her to drop her keys. She flails around, trying to break free of Donovan’s hold on her, the pain in her shoulder intensifying. She kicks her back leg up, nailing him between the legs. 

His grip immediately falters, giving Lydia enough leeway to break free, landing a punch to his jaw before running toward the school, not even taking the chance in looking for her keys. 

She does, however, take a chance by looking back to see where Donovan is, only to see him already getting up from the ground, glaring in her direction. Quickly, she turns back around to run through the doors and back down the dark hallways of the high school. 

Lydia’s only been running for five minutes, but she’s out of breath, the pain from the stitches still sewn into her side feeling like they’re ripping out of her skin. 

Her hands immediately go to her pocket in search of her phone, only to feel nothing but her library card. She must’ve dropped it when Donovan attacked her. Several curses leave her lips under her breath as she looks around the hallway in search of an escape. 

The library card she has feels heavy in her pocket, making her nearly smack her forehead in realization. She could hide in the library! Donovan’s not a student, so there’s no way he has a card. 

Quickly, she pulls the card out of her pocket, flashing it over the card identifier, waiting for the doors to unlock. When they do, she bursts through, looking for a place to hide. She hears approaching footsteps outside of the library.

She spots several rows of bookshelves behind the scaffolding that the construction workers have been using for the last few weeks. Lydia rushes over to hide between the bookshelves, trying to remain as hidden as possible, just as the library doors open. 

Footsteps slowly trek onto the tiled floors, the doors clicking shut behind the person. A familiar ring tone sounds through the silent library, causing Lydia to lean her head back against the bookshelf, clenching her eyes shut. 

“It’s Stiles, Lydia,” Donovan’s voice rings out, amusement laced in his tone. “Should I answer? Should I tell him that you’re busy?” 

A tear falls down Lydia’s cheek. 

“You know what? Maybe you’ll just have to call him back. You know, if you get the chance.” 

The ringing stops, Stiles no doubt leaving a message. She hears Donovan’s footsteps as he walks around the library in search of her. 

“You know who I am, don’t you, Lydia?” She of course doesn’t answer, to which he continues. “I’m the kid that Sheriff Stilinski’s arrested on more than three occasions. And you know what he was gonna do to me? He was gonna put me in jail. Do I look like I belong in jail?” 

“You know, I have a story for you, Lydia. I bet you Stiles doesn’t even know this one. 

“Stiles’ father and mine used to be partners, you know. And there was this one time that Sheriff Stilinski and him were caught in a shoot-out when he was still a deputy. A bullet shattered my dad’s T-9 vertebra. Do you know what that means, Lydia? Hell, of course you do. You’re the genius, right? But I’m gonna tell you anyway. 

“It means everything below his waist is useless. And not just his legs. 

“And here you are, probably thinking that Sheriff Stilinski was all heroic, pulling my dad out of that shoot-out even if it meant risking his own life. But he didn’t. No, he was sitting in a car, calling for backup while my dad was going in alone.” 

More tears fall down Lydia’s cheeks as Donovan tells her this story that she probably won’t be able live to tell anyone else. 

“He was too scared, too much of a frightened little bitch to go in after him. And I bet you that Stiles doesn’t know, because scared little bitches don’t tell their little bitch sons about their failures. About how they put their partner in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.” 

She watches as Donovan walks up the steps to the second level of the library, the stairs creaking beneath his weight. 

Sighing, she leans against the bookshelf, taking a breather for a moment. 

It doesn’t last long. 

A hand clamps down on her shoulder, pulling her back through the shelf. She lands harshly on her back, her arms coming up to shield the books falling down on her. Before she can get back up, Donovan’s straddling her waist, his hands tightly gripping her throat. 

Lydia’s air supply is cut off, leaving her choking for air as she claws at Donovan’s hands around her throat, trying to get them off. It doesn’t really work. 

“He told me to go after someone he loves,” Donovan whispers harshly to her. “And what causes someone emotional pain? Seeing someone they love being suffering from emotional pain and not being able to do anything about it. 

“And you, Lydia,” he continues as Lydia’s life is slowly draining away from her. “You are the key to completely breaking Stiles Stilinski. He’ll be devastated. And Sheriff Stilinski won’t be able to do anything about it. What can he do? It’s not like he can revive a body that will be buried six feet under.” 

His grip on her neck tightens, and Lydia can see black start to cloud around the edges of her eyes. She needs to think. Fast. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a big, hard covered book. Blindly, she reaches over to grasp it in her hand, barely having enough energy to lift and a hit Donovan with a good whack across the head. 

To her pleasure, he lets go of her neck, grasping his head in pain. Now holding the book with both hands, Lydia whacks him across the head again, causing him to roll off of her. 

As quickly as she can, she gets up from the ground, clutching her neck in pain as she stumbles toward the door. She loses her footing, sending her falling into the scaffolding. She grasps onto the red bars, trying to keep herself upright. 

Given Donovan’s newfound supernatural powers, he’s able to recover quickly, marching angrily over to her. She knows she won’t be able to outrun him to the door, so she does the only thing she can think of. 

She starts climbing. 

Her arms are weak, but she pushes herself. Hard. She’s not dying tonight if she can help it. 

That same hand grasps around her ankle, the needles sinking back into her skin. She lets out another scream, trying to shake off his hand. It works, and when she looks down, she sees a mouth with hundreds of small teeth opened in the middle of his palm. 

What the hell? 

Quickly, she starts climbing again, reaching about halfway up when Donovan grabs her legs again, this time with no teeth. She tries to shake him off, but his grip is too strong this time. 

“Come on, Lydia. Just give me a little taste,” he says in a supposedly seductive tone. She looks back down at him, to see his eyes glowing white and his wendigo teeth bared at her. “Just a little taste,” he repeats, his voice distorted. 

She looks away, more tears pouring down her face. Lydia looks for anything, anything she can use to defend herself. She doesn’t see anything, until she sees a ring sticking out of one of the levels of the scaffolding. The ring that’s holding the level together. 

Without thinking twice, she pulls ring out of place, cowering the other way as the level falls, several poles with it. It’s only when she hears the sickening sound of metal cutting through flesh that she turns around, wishing that she didn’t. 

The pole is what’s holding him upright, slanting through his body as his back bends, his feet planted on the ground. A pool of blood stains the ground below him. His blood. 

Slowly, Lydia descends the scaffolding, taking timid steps toward Donovan’s body. He blinks at her one last time, before his head lulls back, his dead, soulless eyes staring   
straight at her. 

She looks at his dead body with wide eyes, her breath coming out in uneven puffs as she takes in what she’s done. I just killed someone.

Numbly, Lydia walks over to the phone in the library, dialing the Sheriff’s station, letting dispatch hang up, declaring a prank call and sending an officer out to the high school. Just what she’d planned. 

Quickly, she walks over to the door, placing a book between the two so one of them is propped open. But the sound of a familiar ring tone holds her back from leaving. 

She turns around, seeing the lit up screen of her phone still resting in Donovan’s sweatshirt pocket. Taking a deep breath in, she walks over to his body, reaching into his pocket to grip her phone, pulling out. She sees that blood is left on her hand from where the fabric was soaked with the crimson liquid. 

And she leaves, not once looking back.   
////  
She doesn’t know why she’s here. 

To be frank, she doesn’t know how she ended up here. Maybe she felt that he would be the one person who wouldn’t judge her. The one person who would listen to her. To understand her. He always has before. 

She just hopes she’s not wrong. 

Lydia won’t lie when she says that she’s glad that Sheriff Stilinski’s cruiser isn’t parked in the driveway of the Stilinski household. She didn’t really want to explain the blood on her hands to him. She’s not really sure she wants to explain it to Stiles, either. But she has to tell someone. She has to. 

With the last bit of confidence she has, Lydia opens her car door, stepping out into the cold night. She shuts the door behind her, walking up the front walk to the front door, hesitantly knocking on the door. 

She doesn’t know why she thought Stiles would still be up. Maybe because he’d been calling her nonstop since she first got to the school. He hasn’t called since she left. Maybe he fell asleep. She doesn’t really care. 

Another breath of relief falls from her lips when she hears footsteps behind the front door, only getting louder as they get closer. And before she knows it, she’s looking into   
the whiskey eyes of one certain Stilinski boy she has come to call her best friend. 

His eyes are a little heavy, so she can only assume he was just about to fall asleep when she knocked on the door. He doesn’t seem so bothered by it though when he realizes who she is. 

“Lydia? What are you doing her-“ he cuts himself off when his eyes drift down to her neck, which is no doubt displaying the bruises of Donovan’s hands, and then down to her right hand, stained with his blood. 

Without another word, Stiles grips her left arm in his hand lightly, pulling her into the dark house. He turns the entry way light on after he shuts the front door, taking her face in his hands as he tilts her head up, examining the dark marks on her pale skin. 

“What the hell happened to you, Lydia?” he asks softly, letting her head fall back down as he keeps his grasp on her cheeks. The tears that line her eyes, plus the tear stains that paint her face are enough to make him crumble. Even if she does look beautiful when she cries, he still doesn’t want to see it. 

“Can we talk upstairs?” she asks, her voice hoarse from screaming and from nearly being strangled to death. 

He nods his head, thanking the good Lord that it wasn’t one of the nights that Malia was spending the night. Even though he didn’t really want to admit it, they’ve been having problems a lot, lately. Constant fighting. Being hostile to each other. Their friends didn’t see it, but only because they put on the act like everything was alright. 

Stiles doesn’t really know how much longer they’ll last. 

Carefully, the Stilinski boy guides the strawberry blonde up the stairs and into his room, sitting her on his bed. He tells her he’ll be right back and rushes to the bathroom to get a cold cloth. When he walks back in, he sees Lydia sitting there, picking at the dried skin on her right hand, several tears falling down her cheeks. 

Slowly, he walks over to her, kneeling down in front of her. He takes her right hand in his left one, causing her attention to go from the blood to his eyes. He gives her a small smile before he looks down at her hand, gently cleaning the red substance off her hand. 

When he’s done, he sets the cloth down on his nightstand, keeping his kneeling position in front of the silent girl. He won’t push her to say anything. He’ll let her talk when she’s ready. 

“Why were you calling me earlier?” she asks him, looking down at her hands that rest in her lap. 

“I heard you got out of the hospital earlier. I had tried to see you over the week, but your mother restricted it to only family and the police. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he explains to her in the softest voice he’s ever used with her. 

Besides that time she was here after the whole Barrow incident. When he told her that she shouldn’t stop doubting herself. When she realized that maybe she did feel something for the Stilinski boy. 

She didn’t want to admit it back then. Oh, how times have changed. 

“Are you okay, Lydia?” 

More tears gather in her eyes. It’s been a while since someone had asked her that genuinely. Ever since Allison left, she hasn’t been the same. She hasn’t been okay. 

And now, she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be. 

Lydia shakes her head, continuing to pick at the pink varnish on her fingernails. “No. I’m not.” 

“What happened, Lydia?” he asks tentatively.

“I was just going to get some ibuprofen. But, then I ended up at the school. And usually when that happens, it’s another banshee feeling. So, I decided I would investigate. You know, I usually only get those feelings when—“ 

“There’s a dead body,” Stiles finishes for her. 

She sends him a small smile before looking back down at her hands. “Yeah. But after an hour of searching, I didn’t find anything. No blood. No bodies. Nothing. So, I decided I would just go home.” 

Lydia takes a deep breath as she prepares to tell the rest of her story. 

“I was almost to my car. Just a few mere feet away. I had my keys in my hand. And then I heard something behind me. Footsteps. So, I clutched my key between my fingers in my closed fists, just like Allison taught me, and once the stranger was close enough, I turned around, cutting them with my key. 

“I backed up to lean against my car to see my attacker, and when I did, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Donovan, Stiles.” 

Stiles’ eyes furrow in confusion, unsure of why Donovan would go after Lydia. He didn’t even think Donovan knew Lydia. 

“But it wasn’t just Donovan. He had blood on his cheeks, trails of it leading to the corner of his mouth. Had rows and rows of teeth. He was turned into a wendigo.

“Almost instantly, I turned around, fumbling with my keys so I could unlock my car. But Donovan recovered fast, and his hand was on my shoulder. It felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into the skin of my shoulder. The pain was so bad, I dropped my keys. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth. 

“I felt helpless. I managed to get out of his grip and run into the school, not risking trying to find my keys. I ran for a while, but the stitches in my side were starting to tear. I needed a place to hide. And the library was next to me. I happened to have my library card in pants pocket. So, I went in there.” 

“Why didn’t you just call one of us?” Stiles questions. 

“I dropped my phone back when Donovan was attacking me in the parking lot. Anyway, I hid in between the bookshelves behind the scaffolding the construction workers have been using. I don’t know how Donovan got into the library, but he did.

“He started telling me this story of when his dad and your dad were partners when your dad was still a deputy. He told me that they were caught in a shoot-out, and a bullet shattered his T-9 vertebra. He also told me that your father was in the car, calling for back up.” 

She looks up just in time to see Stiles’ jaw clench, but he doesn’t say anything. Lydia takes that as a cue to go on. 

“Donovan walked up the step to the second level. I thought I was safe. But the moment I leaned against the bookshelf, his hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me through the bookshelf. I landed on my back, books falling on me. I didn’t have time to get up before Donovan was straddling my waist, wrapping his hands around my neck. 

“He said something about how someone told him that to cause your dad emotional pain, he had to go after someone he loves. He also said what’s more painful than seeing someone you love in emotional pain, and not being able to do anything about it? He said I was the key to completely breaking you. And that when I died, you’d be devastated. And   
your dad wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. 

“I was close to blacking out. But I grabbed a hard covered book and hit him over the head with it. Once he got off of me, I struggled to run to the door. I lost my footing, crashing into the scaffolding. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to outrun him. So, I started climbing. 

“He recovered faster than I was hoping. He grabbed onto my leg, that same needle stabbing feeling spreading through it. I managed to shake his hand off, and when I looked down, I saw that his hand had a mouth in the center of the palm, hundreds of teeth inside. 

“He grabbed my legs again. I couldn’t shake him off. I was almost certain I was dead. But then I saw a key that held up one of the levels of the scaffolding.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “And I pulled it out. 

“I had only meant for it to fall on top of him. That was it, I swear. But when I looked back down at him, I saw that one of the poles that rested on that level had gone straight through him.” 

Lydia looks up at Stiles with more tears in her eyes, making his heart nearly break in tears. She should never have to feel this way. 

“I killed him, Stiles.

“I killed him. We’re trying to help them, Stiles. And I killed him. He’s dead now because of me,” she cries, tears falling down her cheeks like a waterfall. 

Slowly, Stiles stands from his kneeling position, taking a place next to her on the bed. He slips his arm over her shoulder, pulling her head into his chest. She clutches his shirt in her fist, burying her face into his neck. 

“Lydia, it was self-defense. You didn’t mean to kill him. You told me yourself,” he says softly. “If you hadn’t pulled that ring out of the scaffolding, you would be dead right now. And you know what I would’ve done?” 

She pulls away from his neck, looking into his eyes with her teary ones. “What?” she whispers. 

“I would’ve gone out of my freaking mind.”   
////  
She doesn’t know how she got here. 

She used to be the cold, heartless, popular bitch of Beacon Hills High School. But then they came into her life. First it was Allison Argent. Then it was Scott McCall. 

And then it was Stiles Stilinski. 

She doesn’t know how she got here, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world.


End file.
